


No Different

by somethingscarlet13



Category: Good Omens
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:59:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingscarlet13/pseuds/somethingscarlet13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an angel and a demon fall in love, both heaven and hell are going to notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Different

When demons and angels are sent to live among humans, they don't usually get along. Nor do they have feelings for eachother. And most certainly, if one has feelings for the other, the feelings are not returned. 

But Crowley and Aziraphale were different. After the world almost ended, and the two realized that they had almost lost eachother, there had been a rush of love confessions followed by tears of joy from both parties and many passionate kisses. 

Of corse, when an angel and a demon fall in love, both heaven and hell are going to notice.

It was a good five months after the almost apoclypse. An uneventful Tuesday evening with the sky just beginning to get dark, and Aziraphale and Crowley were walking back home from dinner hand in hand.

"You ssstill haven't sssobered up!" giggled Crowley as Aziraphale leaned into him. "You filthy....you dirty liar!"

Aziraphale was laughing into the demons chest, cheeks flushed from too much wine, and Crowley knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

"I'm so in love with you right now," he said softly, running his fingers through his angels thick blond curls.

Aziraphale snorted. "My love, you practically say that every time I breathe."

My love. It was used now instead of my dear & had began once the two became "official". Every time Crowley heard it, fireworks went off in his chest. 

"I can't help it angel! You're just too....angelic." 

Aziraphale burst into a new fit of giggles. "You're such an idiot," he said lovingly. 

"Yes but I'm your idiot," Crowley replied. He leaned in close. "Forever." 

The kiss that followed was sloppy, both parties were grinning far to much for it to actually work, but it did. 

"I love you," Aziraphale whispered once the kiss was over, touching his forehead to Crowley's. "I love you so much." 

As a rule, demons weren't supposed to feel pure joy, but Crowley had already broken almost every other rule, and stopping now seemed unethical. 

"Angel," he breathed back, "Would it be completely crazy if I asked you to marry me right now?"

Aziraphale's face went red and he sputtered for a second before managing to reply. "Crowley, you're still drunk."

"Ah. Right. Hold on a minute angel." With a shiver, Crowley sobered up. He took off his sunglasses and looked Aziraphale dead in the eye. "Aziraphale, I am in love with you." As if realizing the weight of what he just said, Crowley gasped and kissed Aziraphale hard. "I am so madly in love with you, Aziraphale, and I want to marry you. Because I love you." He waited a spell and then added, "Please." 

Aziraphale blinked and just as Crowley was getting nervous, he smiled. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Of corse."

"Of corse," Crowley repeated breathlessly. 

And then they were kissing. Really kissing this time, with teeth and tongue and hot breath on hotter breath........

"Having fun, Crowley?"

The lovebirds froze and Crowley pulled away from Aziraphale's soft lips to look at who had spoken.

Aamon sneered, his eyes gleaming like jewels in the moonlight. 

If Crowley had a heart like normal humans did, he would say it had stopped in that moment. Although he didn't have a heart, the feeling of his gut dropping right out of his body was still there. 

"What are you doing here?" Crowley hissed, drawing Aziraphale closer.

The marquis of hell beamed, as if Crowley had just asked the golden question. He looked too happy, like a predator who had caught his prey when they were at their weakest. Which, in a way, he had.

"I thought it was some kind of crewel joke, Crowley. You, in love with an angel." 

The smile never left his face and Crowley could sense that this was all wrong. Since when did the higher-ups of hell come to see him? Since when did they care about what he did on earth? 

"Let me see which one you decided to break the rules for," Aamon purred, coming closer. Before Crowley could tell him to fuck off or pull Aziraphale away, Aamon was squeezing the angels cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger and looking him over like a piece of meat. 

"Aziraphale," the marquis stated, turning the angels face this way and that to get a good look at him. 

"Oh, Crowley," he sighed, as if disappointed. "You've always had poor taste." 

That was the end of the line. Crowley yanked Aziraphale away and grabbed Aamon by the neck. "If you so much as look at him again, I'll send you back to hell one piece at a time." 

Aamon's eyes went wide, and for a moment Crowley thought that was it, he had won, but then Aamon started laughing, and that feeling of doomed falling was back. 

"Actually, Crowley, going back to hell is exactly what you'll be doing. Right now. With me."

Crowley let go of Aamon and backed away. The sudden weight of Aziraphale's hand in his reminded him that the Angel was still there, that there was still someone by his side. 

"Don't worry my love, I won't let them take you." 

"Aziraphale," sighed Aamon, "You don't have a say in this. In fact, your own people are waiting for you back at your beloved bookstore." 

Aziraphale loosened his grip in confusion only for a moment, but that's all it took. 

Aamon grabbed Crowley by the shoulder, yanked him away from the angel, and in the blink of an eye, both demons were gone, leaving Aziraphale alone. 

The Angel waisted no time. His own people were waiting back at his bookstore he had been told, and he needed answers. Now.

*******

"Why am I here?" Crowley mentally punched himself for not asking sooner, but on some level he did know that Aamon wouldn't have answered until they were back in hell anyways. 

"You are here, Crowley, because nowhere in the agreement was it stated that you were to fall in love with the angel. In fact, there is no reason that should had been written down!" The Marquis's voice has grown angrier and angrier as he spoke, and the last sentences were practically growled. "You deliberately disobeyed, Crowley. And every disobedience comes with punishment." 

Crowley, who was failing miserably at not panicking, just barley managed to whimper out a "What are you going to do to me?"

Aamon strode over and looked down at Crowley. His glare alone told the lower demon that if he didn't kneel things would only be worse, and so Crowley fell to his knees. 

"Please," he cried. "What are you going to do to me?"

*********

"No. Never. I'd rather....I'd rather......"

"You'd rather what, Aziraphale?" Asked the angel sitting on Aziraphale's couch in the same soothing voice a doctor would use to calm a patient. 

"I'd rather.....I'd rather fall."

The angel on the couch coughed and choked before finally regaining himself. "Now Aziraphale, don't be brash. Surely you don't mean --"

"I do mean it, Zachriel. I love Crowley. And I'd rather fall then let you make me forget about him."

The angel named Zachriel got up from his seat and in one fluid moment he took Aziraphale's hands in his. "My dear friend, normally I would support you in your decisions of love, but not only have you fallen for a demon....." He trailed off and his eyes suddenly looked very sad. "Do you know what they'll do to your Crowley?" 

Aziraphale wished he could nod, he wished that he could say he knew exactly what was happening to the only other creature he had ever loved, but that would be a lie. And Aziraphale didn't like lying. 

He shook his head. 

"Oh Aziraphale....." Zachriel sounded truly mournful. He took a breath and then looked directly at Aziraphale.

"They're going to beat him into submission. They'll abuse him until he forgets what what love is, let alone love for you. They'll abuse his body, mind, and soul until he forgets your very name. They'll completely reform him into someone you don't even know." 

Aziraphale tore himself away from Zachriel's grasp. "No. No, you're lying. Crowleys not that easily broken. He'll be fine, you'll see. He'll be--" He didn't even realize he was crying until Zachriel was holding him tightly and he could feel his tears soaking into the other angels robes. 

"It'll be for the best," Zachriel said softly, but Aziraphale pushed away, shaking his head. 

Zachriel sighed. "I see this won't be easy." He admitted. "Alright old friend, how about this. I'll bring the demon Crowley to you once hell has had their way with him. If he is as strong as you say, I'll make sure the two of you are left alone. And if he tries to kill you, Aziraphale, will you let me ease your pain by erasing your memory of him?"

Aziraphale nodded. "Yes. Yes, that sounds fair. Thank you, Zachriel."

The other angel bowed. "Until then." And just like that, he was gone.

*********

"Tell me about the angel. Do you still love him?"

Crowley had no idea how long it had been. It felt like eons, but it was probably only a few days, or hours. He had been submitted to almost every torture method in the book, but whenever he was asked about Aziraphale, his answer had always stayed the same. 

"More than anything."

He couldn't even scream as his head was yanked backwards and something hot and black was poured down his nose and mouth. Was it tar? No, it couldn't be tar, tar didn't burn like whatever this was. He'd survive it, but boy did it hurt. 

"The angel?"

Crowley couldn't reply, so instead he spat a clump of the black liquid onto Aamon's shoes. 

"I'll take that as a fuck you," Aamon said in monotone, and Crowley grinned up ugly at him, black liquid spilling through his teeth and down his chin, burning all the way. 

Aamon kicked Crowley's head to the ground and added more and more weight as he spoke. 

"You do not exist unless Satan says so and trust me when I say that there is no room for a weak demon in his home." He hissed. "It's a shame it had to come to this, Crowley. You were the one who delivered the antichrist, after all."

The pain on his head was unbearable, but Crowley refused to show any emotion. 

"It's ok, Crowley. After this, you'll be........reborn."

Aamon's hissing laughter was the last thing Crowley heard before the pain on his head became blinding white. There was a nasty crunching sound, and then nothing.

*************

Aziraphale had counted the days until he could see Crowley again. So far it had almost been as long as it was when they had first started dating. Nearly five months.

And Aziraphale had never been more miserable.

He had never really noticed how much love had been in Crowleys aura until he was gone, and now everything seemed cold and grey, like a constant raincloud hanging overhead.

More that that was the fact that he missed Crowley. Everything about him, really. 

Their first kiss had been wonderful. Crowley had tasted like cinnamon and smoke and Aziraphale remembered pulling Crowley back to him when the demon had decided to end it. 

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and Aziraphale flew to the doorway and opened the door.

And there was Crowley. Just seeing him again knocked the wind out of Aziraphale and it took him a moment to realize that Zachriel was there too.

"Here he is, Aziraphale."

"I.....I don't know what to say."

"I'll be right here if things get out of control."

Zachriel gestured for Crowley to enter, and then closed the door behind him. Aziraphale could see Zachriel's silhouette right outside, but his focus was quickly back on Crowley. 

He took a tentative step forwards. "Crowley? Love? It's me. It's Aziraphale."

The corner of Crowley's mouth turned down in a grimace and he looked around before finally looking back at the angel. 

"Do I.......know you?"

Aziraphale's heart dropped. "Crowley, love, it's--"

He was cut off by a harsh, cold, laugh. 

"Did you just call me....love?" The word love was practically spat in disgust. Aziraphale tried to protest, but Crowley, this new Crowley, wasn't finished yet.

"Do you love me? You, an angel, in love with me, a demon? You don't even know me you good-doer parasite." 

"Crowley--" Aziraphale could feel his heart breaking, each shattered piece pericing his lungs and making it harder and harder to breathe. 

"You don't look like an angel," Crowley continued. "You're too fat and short and sad." His face suddenly lit up in a dispicable smile. "Look! You're even crying!" 

Aziraphale only noticed that fact once Crowley pointed it out, and he wiped at his eyes in vain. 

"Crowley. Crowley please. I love you. I love you and you love me--"

"I don't love you. I could never love you. Fucking angel, you think you can just wave your hands and make everything better and it's fucking pathetic you fucking--"

And this time it was Aziraphale who cut off Crowley, but pulling him close and kissing him with everything he had.

But this wasn't his Crowley. This Crowley tasted like battery acid and tar and......and hate. It was there, as clear as day. Crowley hated him, utterly loathed him. 

And then Crowley pushed away and with a growl of anger slapped Aziraphale across the face.

It stung more than it should have, and when Aziraphale reached up and felt his cheek, his fingers came back sticky and red with blood.

Crowley had clawed him.

"If you try that again, I'll kill you."

And then Crowley was out the door, and Aziraphale was left feeling lost and lonely.

Zachriel was inside in a moments notice, and he let Aziraphale cling to him and cry and cry until he was dry sobbing into the other angels clothes. 

When he was finally ready, Aziraphale stepped away and wiped at his eyes. 

"I'm ready."

Zachriel nodded, wordlessly, and placed two fingers on Aziraphale's forehead. 

And Crowley began to disappear. 

Instead of Crowley and Aziraphale preparing to fight the devil, it was just Aziraphale, standing by himself and ready to fight head-on. Instead of a pair going to the Ritz, it was Aziraphale going alone and snacking while reading a new book. Two feeding the ducks became one feeding the ducks. Every moment, every century, stopped being the story of an angel and a demon and simply became the story of an angel. Aziraphale, alone during both world wars. Aziraphale, alone during the French Revolution. Aziraphale, alone during the time of the Roman Empire. One by one Crowley disappeared, until the only memory left of him was a snake in a garden at the beginning of time. And then that one was gone too. 

***********

When demons and angels are sent to live among humans, they don't usually get along. Nor do they have feelings for eachother. And most certainly, if one has feelings for the other, the feelings are not returned.

And Crowley and Aziraphale were no different.


End file.
